6

and he cried.
She spelt ‘loving’ wrong,
sorry but i could never stop loveng you
He picked it up, holding back tears, and the note on the dresser read:
As he was about to leave the room, he noticed something, a paper, on her nightstand.

5

He found her hanging from a rope above her bed, her flawless eyes rolled over, her neck slanted.
He managed his way into a door marking her room.  It was ajar, so he pushed it and went inside.
I’m sure she’ll be home any minute now.  He reassures himself, tapping his platinum wristwatch.
Oh, she’s only two minutes late.  She’s probably proving a point that she’s human; she’s imperfect.
Getting more worried with every empty second, he double-checked his watch.  Seven oh two.
“Hello?!”  He cried, not assuming the worst.  “Anybody home?”  He shrugged, climbing upstairs.
He knocked on her door.  No answer.  The door was unlocked, so he went inside.

4

One might find this ironic for she was rather odd, in a sense, but she sips gallons of irony daily.
This bugged her severely for she hated odd numbers; if they weren’t even, they were inconsistent.
She counted the kitchen tiles until her mom left the house.  There were exactly ninety-seven tiles.
“I’m really sorry I can’t make it.”  But she didn’t mind.  In fact, she was glad her mom wouldn’t be there.
“Yeah,” she lied.  “D-I-C-T-I-O-N-A-R-Y.”  She feigned a laugh as she spelt the sickening word.
“Honey,” her mom said, “are you getting ready for your little school contest?”

3

She hung up without realizing how awkward his mouth went.  He still went over anyway.
“For once, please, could you not be so, so annoyingly precise.”
“But I spell-check everything, making sure it’s accurate.  I’m a perfectionist, but I can’t help it.”
“Forget a comma; misspell a word.  You’re not as perfect as you think you are.  You can’t be.”
“Excuse me?”  She said, slightly offended (well, more than slightly, but she convinced herself otherwise.)
“I’m excited to finally talk to you,” he said.  “Just promise me you won’t be so Perfect.
He called her at five-o-clock sharp.  Two hours before their ‘meet’.

2

What she didn’t know was he secretly admired her but was too shy to ask her out.
and she’d ditch the bee.  To her surprise, he happily accepted.  This was his chance, he thought.
She wrote a note and put it on a dresser.  Her plan ? Invite him over.  Her last night in town,
The only problem: her crush.   Him.
She wanted to leave for good.  Forget that pesky competition.
The night of the spelling bee, that very windy night, she had packed her bags.

1

He was different; she just couldn’t place her finger on why . . .
the only one that didn’t notice her, but for some reason she felt attracted to him.
Okay, well not everybody.  That’s an exaggeration.  But there was this one boy...
She had it all, and everyone envied her juxtaposition of straight A’s and good looks.
valedictorian, almost international spelling bee champion, prom queen.
She was the most popular girl in her school: